Wakareru
by lovelyxznv31
Summary: What if it was impossible to be with the one you wanted? What if your fate set true love apart? TxG story!
1. Prologue

**Story: **Wakareru

**Meaning: **japanese word - to part, to separate, to break up.

**Summary: **What if it was impossible to be with the one you wanted? What if your fate set true love apart?

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing related to HSM, I'm only playing with the characters.

Prologue:

Jack Bolton, the most attractive and successful man in Albuquerque, New Mexico never had much complications to get to the point of his life where he was worshiped as a God, envied by every man in town and desired by every woman in the state of NM. He always had the way to power and success clear and free of obstacles, not because of his own hard work, but mostly due to the status that the name Bolton had all by itself. He was the only son of the wealthy and lonely businessman Abraham Bolton and for a long time, the only heir of his fortune. Jack was constantly spoiled, extremely cocky and ridiculously handsome. He made his way through everything and everyone with a glistering white smile on his face and a confident attitude.

No one ever believed that the bachelor and player would have a family of his own, on the contrary, it was expected that Jack Bolton would live a lonely life like his father lived till this day. For an enormous period of time, mostly when Abraham decided he was too tired and wanted to retire and leave the business for young and reckless Jack, the son that everyone thought would be a great businessman, spend more money than needed in parties and women. He travelled around the world and had the best time of his life. Jack Bolton did everything he wanted and nobody said anything about it because they couldn't criticize royalty. And he was the king of that city of endless deserts and high temperature. Albuquerque was his kingdom, his home and his constant playground.

It wasn't until late, when he was already 38 years old that the status of playboy, party maker and lonely man changed. Surprisingly, there was water in the desert and during a rainy night, when wind blew furiously against his room's window and couldn't let him sleep, he had to find something to do with his boredom.

Her name was Myra, she was too young for him, with big and sparkly blue eyes and long blond hair that cascaded midway down her back and around her shoulders. She also worked as a maid in the house and trusted that every single word that left his mouth that night came from the bottom of his heart. Being so naive fooled herself and as his beautiful husky voice pronounced sweet compliments she never imagined to hear from a man like him, she gave her body and soul to him, literally throwing on the garbage her beliefs of saving herself for the right one.

Throughout the entire season of endless rain, she believed she was special every time he knocked on her door and made himself comfortable under her covers and using her body. As long as the rain lasted, he was there with her, loving her and sending her over the moon with his caresses and words. But as soon as the water stopped and the sky was clear again, making it possible for the stars to reappear, he was gone.

Even if he promised innumerous times he'd always be back for her, the king never considered the possibility of returning to her warm and spread arms. The queen she once dreamed to be and the illusion of being with a man like him, slipped through her fingers like crystalline water. The maid, immersed in pure love, suffered with his lack of interest in her and decided she had no reason to live without the one she had fallen in love so deeply. Myra stopped eating, stopped smiling and finally, stopped living. Rapidly she began fainting and throwing up, showing sickness even to selfish and oblivious Jack. One night, convinced by his father, he called a doctor and, on the last day of the month, while, ironic or what, it was raining again, they discovered they would be parents. The king and the maid.

After much arguing, Jack decided to follow the eldest Bolton's advice to keep the girl close and be a father to the baby. He wanted someone to be exactly like him. Myra couldn't be happier as she moved from the employees' dormitory to a guest room on the second floor of the mansion and was, for the first time in her life, treated as a person by the Boltons. Her heart was starting to heal by the time she got in labor and gave birth to a healthy and beautiful little boy. Jack named him Troy, like the legendary city, and baptized the baby in glory and richness. He wished for his son to act and be just like him and continue his achievements in life.

The maid went through a few months of calmness, and as baby Troy turned five months old, she was fired from the house, sent far away from her son, the man she loved so much and the family she wished to be part of. She was prohibited to come back, but Jack made sure she had money enough to live her life without worrying about it. More than anything, he made sure she wouldn't want to come back to ask for money.

For the entire household, Troy's mom was dead and nothing could be said about her. It was law set by the king and the ones that didn't respect it, would suffer the consequences. Why he did this? It was simple, yet cruel; royalty belonged with royalty. So Jack decided it was time to be a grown up and pass the torch to his son.

As Troy Bolton grew up to be the spitting image of his father, Jack knew he had been successful in raising his heir. It was more than DNA and genes; Troy had an aura around him that stated he'd be a winner in life. He was truly a Bolton.

He was the prince.


	2. Cold Hearted Man

**Story: **Wakareru

**Meaning: **japanese word - to part, to separate, to break up.

**Summary: **What if it was impossible to be with the one you wanted? What if your fate set true love apart?

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing related to HSM, I'm only playing with the characters.

**Author Note:** Yes, I know you're probably tired of me, but I'm back! Let me say I am sorry in advance for Troy's behavior... he is a little bit spoiled, ha. Okay, so Waka is my new story and I'm having a great time writing it. Hopefully you'll like it too, and share your thoughts with me. I love when you guys review the stories and send me PMs to tell you enjoy what I do. That makes my day! And in response to the PM I received, nope, I'm not abandoning Inked. In fact, I am finishing next chapters tonight or tomorrow morning, so I'll probably try to update the story in a couple of days! I just had to take Wakareru out of my head before I could write another chapter of Inked... I couldn't stop thinking about this mean and cocky Troy while I tried to write my Inked Troy, lol. And that wouldn't be a good idea to do that with Emerson's dad, right? So yeah... thanks for reading, thanks in advance for reviewing and thank you for giving this story a chance! You're the best readers in the entire world and I'm not lying!!! :p

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**"**As she became a grown up, she wasn't so sure. I don't know why grown ups don't believe what they did when they were kids. I mean, aren't they supposed to be smarter? What Mahoney needed was the opportunity to prove herself that she was something more than she believed.**"**

_Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium, ____2007.  
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Chapter 1: Cold Hearted Man

That was it.

Her life was about to change drastically the moment she put her foot outside of the old yellow cab. She had left it all behind to try for this wish to be someone else, to have opportunities and to start living somehow. She was sure that's what she wanted and needed, but yet, she couldn't find the strength to move not even an inch.

Maybe it was her brain that stuck for some unknown reason, maybe it was the fear that rushed frenetically through her body since she left the airport with the chubby Latino man. Perhaps it was the fact her hand was clasped around the reminiscent of her savings so tightly she was scared her fingernails were pressed into her hand for eternity. Obviously, one of the reasons she was frozen in place, the man clicking his tongue rhythmically as he observed her on the rear view mirror was that she couldn't believe she was in the right place. Wasn't she supposed to come to a house where her grandmother worked to live with her? Why she never mentioned she was going to live in a mansion? Or try a castle!

Because the house was bigger than anything she had ever seen. Bigger than her school in New Jersey, bigger than the library building, bigger than any other mansion she watched on television. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back to rest against the seat, squeezing her lips together as hard as she could, afraid she would have to not only pay for the ride to the house, but pay for the car wash in case she threw up on the floor. Inhaling and exhaling, she tried to calm down, knowing for sure that she couldn't be in the right place.

"Girl, you're getting out or not?" the dark haired man looked over his shoulders, his tongue travelling against his teeth as his fingertips tapped on the steering wheel, "Are you waiting for someone?"

"No…" her voice was tiny and scared, but she forced herself to clear her throat and shake her head negatively, "Are you sure we're in the right place? I'm looking for the Boltons residence"

The Latino's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open at the mention of the Boltons name, and for a second, she thought he'd be the one to vomit now. She scanned his rigid posture and the way his veins popped on his neck and that was enough to accelerate her heart and wish she'd be back in Jersey with her parents for good.

"I thought you just wanted to observe…" he whispered his words, as if it was a secret, and she shook her head, trying to find her voice to admit she was staying, staying for at least a year, staying because she got a scholarship in one of the most prestigious high school's in the US.

"You're not a Bolton, are you?" he literally checked her out, studying her clothes, her skin, the way her hair was treated, and then he laughed out loud, as if it was impossible for her to be one of them and live in a house like the one they were in front, observing from the opposite side of the street. "No, she can't be a Bolton, Juan" he told himself, smacking his forehead lightly a few times, raising his hand and waiving her off, "It's $48,63 lady"

She looked down at her sweaty and shaky hand, opening it slowly to reveal the green and white fifty dollar bill, the face of Ulysses S. Grant almost teasing her for spending her last money with cab when she could have managed to get on the bus and get there and still have enough money to eat something at school tomorrow. She sighed, knowing she'd had to pay for the cab even if that meant she'd be as poor as a homeless person.

As she was about to pay for the bill there was a knock on the window that made her and the driver jump in place. She turned around and her eyes met the most expressive blue eyes she had even seen in her life. The guy had his face glued to the window, his hands touching the sides of his head as he narrowed his eyes to try and see her best, a playful smile forming on his lips as he observed her scared face.

The driver rolled down the window and the dirty blond guy's head popped from it as he offered a wink to her and a smile to the driver, "The girl's coming with me, you don't want to make her pay right?" he asked slowly, almost lazily and the driver's corner of mouth curled down in disgust, "you never know when a Bolton can be watching…"

The chubby Latino scoffed, but waved her off immediately. The guy grinned and his head finally left the car as he opened the door to the very thankful girl, helping her out rapidly as the driver turned the vehicle around to get her suitcases inside the trunk.

Flicking his hair out of his eyes, the blue eyed boy tucked her suitcases under his arm, motioning with his head for her to follow him to the gates of the big mansion. The guards opened it promptly, smiling at him and asking "T" if he needed any help.

"Nope, I'm fine guys" he replied every time, taking her suitcases along the extensive way without complaining once about its weight. She forced her legs to run faster to approach him and say thank you for letting her keep her money and for helping her out, but as her footsteps grew gradually louder, he turned around and smiled at her, making her flinch involuntary.

"You're Gabriella, right?" he asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Your grandmother told me everything about you"

"Oh…" she swallowed, her eyes wandering around the big and green landscape, the beautiful flowers and trees that decorated the almost park that the rich people considered their yard.

The mansion, she thought to herself, but was obligated to correct her mind as she let the image of the castle that was the Bolton residence sunk in, was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen in her seventeen years of existence.

She constantly bragged herself for being so into architecture, one of the reasons she needed to have such perfect grades and apply for an excellent school if she wanted to be the first one in the family to attend university and study architecture herself, but in all these years saving money to buy books, reading magazines and watching TV shows that focused on introducing the most beautiful and expensive houses in the whole world, she never saw something like this.

"Pretty impressive, huh?" he chuckled lightly, shouldering her playfully. Gabriella grinned, nodding her head up and down as she ran one hand through her hair, her eyes still hypnotized by the gorgeous tall mansion, the beige and brown color of it, the amazing balconies and personalized shaped windows.

"Wow… how long it takes to clean it all?" she asked slyly, regretting to say it out loud as he literally shook with laugh, his eyes closing adorably as he chuckled. She couldn't help but laugh with him, as if the sound of his joy was made to be joined. "Umm, try maids, sugar…" he said as he calmed down slightly, "lots of maids"

"Right… maids," she agreed, nodding her head rapidly. She kept following him, her legs growing tired as they never approached where they were going. She started an argument with herself as her body moved involuntary after the blue eyed boy, wondering how her life would be if she was as rich as this Bolton family, if she lived in a house as huge as this one and if she had maids to do all the work she had to at home.

She smiled to herself, obviously her life would be much better. First, Gabriella wouldn't have to stop her life to study to get a scholarship for B.I. or work her body to exhaustion to get enough money for the plane ticket and the school's uniform. She wouldn't have to buy used books for her senior year on EBay, a book that looked as old as her dog Petey back home. Her parents, Marty and Jo would have more time to themselves and for her little brother Nathan, and they would be able to actually have a few dates sometimes, maybe travel the world.

Gabriella sighed and shook her head fervently, what was she thinking about? She loved her life, her parents, her little brother and even her old dog. She wouldn't change it for the world, even if that meant she'd have more money. She was fine without money, as long as she had her dreams and her family to help her along the way.

"We're here," the blue eyed boy stopped in front of a small building that looked more like a condo, with beige colored doors and stairs, hidden from everything in the back of the Disneyland sized terrain, and knocked twice on the first door they spotted. "It's the employees' dormitory" he shrugged his shoulder and smiled sympathetically at her.

The door opened swiftly and the person she wanted so much to see smiled at her. Her grandmother Alice laughed lightly, clapping her hands together as she almost jumped in Gabriella's arms, squeezing the thin girl so tightly she found difficult to breathe. As her grandmother finally released her from her body, she took a good look in the woman she didn't see for more than five years.

And she was nothing like she remembered.

Her heart tightened as she saw how tired Alice really looked and the fact that her grandmother seemed to be older than she really was. Maybe one of the reasons she felt so bad was because she looked so thin and fragile, not a healthy thin, she looked sick, very much sick and Gabriella knew why she was there, why her fate had brought her to that place. To take care of Alice.

"She's been sick lately…" the guy told her in a whisper as Alice had turned around to show the way to the small house. As if it was waiting for his words to escape his mouth, her grandmother coughed, frowning deeply as her hand clasped to the front of her light yellow dress. He immediately put down Gabriella's suitcases and embraced the elder Montez in a side hug, taking her slowly to the couch in the middle of the room.

Alice sat down reluctantly, stroking his cheek maternally and offering a grateful tiny smile. Gabriella bent down in front of her, clasping their hands together, trying not to look so scared as her grandmother stroked the top of her head down to the middle of her back where her black, waved hair lay calmly. "It's just a cold," she informed casually, as if there wes nothing to get worried about, "You look so beautiful, Ella" she smiled proudly, her index finger touching her granddaughter's nose playfully, "I'm so happy you're here"

Gabriella opened her mouth to reply, but a cold wind blew coming from the front door and surrounded their bodies. She trembled involuntary and as she heard footsteps, she turned her head around, looking over her shoulder just to spot a figure standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his muscular chest, angry expression, eyes narrowed profoundly.

He stepped inside the house, the faint light of the living room revealing his tall and strong presence, his chestnut floppy hair, his disgusted look as he observed them and the little house. The guy that didn't look older than 18 years old and acted like he was on top of the world used glasses, but she could see that his eyes were a huge tone of baby blue behind the lenses. His face features were perfectly shaped and his lips thin and a light color of pink. His navy blazer was expensive and the white shirt under it fitted his body correctly. The black tie was loose around his neck, as if he didn't have enough time to put it before getting to the place he wanted to go. She looked down at his probably Italian shoes, and it was shining so much she was able to see herself perfectly on it, as if it was a mirror.

"Is it a party here and I was not aware of it?" his husky voice filled the room and echoed in her ears and she found herself holding to her grandmother's hand stronger than before. The mysterious man was beautiful, but his attitude, the way he avoided to look in their eyes as if they were not worth it was enough to transform him in the ugliest person in the world.

"Prince…" the blue eyed boy that was still beside Alice whispered, standing up straight and gulping.

"Tristan, do you know what I find amazing about you?" the prince asked in a fake amused tone, as he ran one hand through his floppy hair, "Is that you're paid to drive me around, and you do exactly the contrary…" he continued slowly, "Does that mean you don't like doing what my father tells you to do?"

"No, Mr. Bolton, never…" Tristan shook his head fervently, his ears getting red as he was put in the spotlight, "Ms. Alice's granddaughter just arrived and I was helping her get here" he pointed with his finger to her and Gabriella swallowed hard as the prince looked at her with the corner of his eyes.

"I don't mind if it's the President or the Pope arriving, Tristan. You need to be ready to take me to school at 7AM sharp" Mr. Bolton growled his words, focusing his attention at the young blue eyed boy again, "I won't ever come looking for you, do you understand that? Or next time you'll really have free time to help people out"

"Yes, sir" he nodded furiously, his dirty blond hair covering his eyes as he stepped closer to the door, motioning for the guy to follow him. The prince turned around and walked to the front door, his expensive shoes making no noise at all as he moved. He stepped on the doorway, and without looking back, not even once, spoke again. "Alice?"

Her grandmother stiffed in her seat and her tired voice flew a bit shaky from her lips, "Yes, Mr. Bolton?"

"You're late" he disappeared through the door and Tristan looked back, smiling sympathetically at Gabriella and mouthing a sorry before he stormed after the guy. Her trembling legs failed her body and she fell on the floor, her hands sweaty and her heart beating so fast she was afraid she'd faint. "Are you ok?" Alice asked worriedly as she shifted to look at her pale granddaughter.

"What... was... that?" she asked in between shaky breaths, "Who... was... that?"

Alice sighed, "That was just the prince…" she stood up slowly, holding to the couch to regain her balance, "He's Mr. Jack Bolton's only son. I'll tell you what, those Boltons are really hard to deal with…" she shook her head, "But they pay well, so what can we do?"

"He is scary, grandma…" she admitted helplessly, her body still suffering from the effects of his visit. Gabriella closed her eyes and his cold eyes and harsh words popped on her mind again, "and he is rude"

Alice laughed lightly, "Yes, he is. They all are" she winked, "I think they're all cold hearted. Mr. Abraham was just lonely, Mr. Jack is cruel and now his son, he is growing up to be exactly like his father. I just hope God never lets the prince do what his father did…"

She muttered the last sentence more to herself, but as Gabriella's eyes widened with curiosity she shook her head, "You just forget what I almost said, okay? Don't ever think out loud around here. The walls can hear you"

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"I am really sorry, Mr. Bolton" Tristan tried for the third time as he drove Troy to school, but the younger Bolton kept ignoring him. He sighed loudly and plugged his white headphones to his ears, turning on the music on his IPod.

One thing he had learned from his father Jack Bolton himself was to never have deep conversations with employees, because they would end up thinking they could treat you as friend and expect way too much. And royalty could never be seen with people like gardeners, drivers and maids. It was just unacceptable.

So Troy did exactly what his father always instructed him to do: he ignored them, talking only about the essential if needed, never giving too much space or else they'd end up getting abusive. Actually, till this day and he knew for a week already that Alice's granddaughter would be moving to the employees house to live with her as she attended the senior year of high school, he couldn't understand how his grandfather had let her do this. The girl would stay there for free, not even working in the house and that seemed absurd to him. Because that was one of the many things his father and hero taught him, and that was to never help employees without getting something in return.

He had tried to know the reason why Abraham decided to let Alice do her way around the house, as if she was one of them, but he just laughed and waved Troy off, telling that one day he'd understand why helping people for no reason was good. But really? He'd never imagine how that would work, he never felt good when he did something and people didn't return the favor. That was why he always liked to listen to Jack instead of his grandfather. Their minds worked alike, completely together, they were connected by something more powerful than genes. Troy loved being exactly like his father and mirror his actions. He adored the fact his father was so happy with the way he was, he had a blast every time Jack praised him for being truly a Bolton.

Tristan parked in front of the nice B.I main building, one of the many that belonged to Troy's family in New Mexico and turned around, thumb up. "We're here"

"Really?" Troy replied sarcastically, taking his headphones from his ears and shaking his head as Tristan motioned to get out of the car to open the door for him, "Save your legs to run after Alice's granddaughter"

"Mr. Bolton" his cheeks turned bright pink, and he looked down, "about that, I am really, really sorry… She looked so helpless that I needed to help"

"Ah, Tristan," Troy laughed bitterly, "If I knew you had a superman degree, I'd pay you more to bring me flying to school, not driving" he opened the door and swung his legs out of the vehicle, "Don't be late or else—"

"I won't Mr. B" he said promptly.

Troy nodded once, jumping out of the car and shutting the door hard behind him. Stopping in front of Bolton Institute, he sighed a breath of relief. The school was one of the places he felt really comfortable in, mostly because people recognized him as the prince he was. The students worship him for his beauty, his money and his ability playing basketball. The teachers and the rest of school's employees, treated him as the most important thing in the world, because well, who wouldn't treated the owner of the school good?

Smirking, Troy fixed his glasses on his face and walked towards the entry of the school, ready for another day in his favorite playground.


	3. I'm your Master

**Story****: **Wakareru

**Meaning****: **Japanese word - to part, to separate, to break up.

**Summary****: **What if it was impossible to be with the one you wanted? What if your fate set true love apart?

**Disclaimer****: **I own nothing related to HSM, I'm only playing with the characters.

**Author Note****: ** As much as I try to find Troy a jerk, I always end up thinking he is completely sexy. I know, I know, what's wrong with me?!

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**"**As a scientist, I am not sure anymore that life can be reduced to a class struggle, to dialectical materialism, or any set of formulas. Life is spontaneous and it is unpredictable, it is magical. I think that we have struggled so hard with the tangible that we have forgotten the intangible.**"**

_Diane Frolov and Andrew Schneider, Northern Exposure, 1994. _

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Chapter 2: I'm your Master

What a life!

As she struggled to get ready in time for school the second day she was living with her grandmother at the Boltons mansion she couldn't help but think what a drastic change she had been through in less than 48 hours. Gabriella had to admit that, even though the Boltons were cold hearted man, they sure knew how to live.

Last night, her grandmother had brought her leftovers from the royalty's dinner, explaining that every night tons of food were meant to be thrown away in the garbage since Abraham, Jack nor Troy ate leftovers. Instead of doing it, the employees shared the food and ate themselves, all of them agreeing that would be almost sinful to throw such good food and waste it when other people could eat it.

She tried for a whole hour as they had dinner and she heard intently her grandmother talking about her work, to understand what she did in the house and why those people were so different than what she expected human beings to be. Gabriella still had in the back of her mind the way the prince had treated Tristan, how humiliated the helpful boy had been.

Gabriella learned that night that the Boltons never had any women in the house, the eldest of them all, Abraham had been married for just a year and Jack was still a baby when his mother passed away. Since then, he didn't find the strength to start the long process of getting to know someone, falling in love and eventually getting married someday. Alice said she believed that Abraham loved his late wife so much that he simply didn't want to erase all her memories and start a new life. He was just pitiful, but a good man deep inside.

Jack Bolton grew up alone, and was the only living memory of his mother, so his father had given him the world to see him happy, even if that meant spoil the boy immensely and let him think he was on top of the world. He always acted superior, even when he was a little child and never respected anyone in the house, sometimes, not even his own father.

The prince Troy Bolton, according to her grandmother, had his destiny sealed since the day he was deposited in Jack's eager arms: he was meant to be exactly like his father. For a while, when he still was a little boy and Jack travelled very much due to work meetings, Troy stayed with Alice, and she even hoped that she could save this one from his cruel destiny to be like the older Bolton. But when Jack realized he needed to be closer to his son if he wanted to raise him correctly, at least correctly to what he was expecting him to be and do, Alice was put away from the boy and had to observe how badly raised he was from the kitchen.

Now that he was 18 years old, he didn't need Jack around to tell him what to do. His father had succeeded in his goal of making Troy his spitting image, not only physically, but in manners too. He had started travelling around the world, being home only one weekend a month, if he managed to get his way back to Albuquerque. Abraham was too old to care about his son and grandson's behavior, so he literally closed his eyes and ignored their every move, giving his opinion only when requested. So Troy was the master and all everyone could do was accept it. And respect him.

Truthfully, as her grandmother kept talking and talking Gabriella couldn't help but wonder why people let a conceited jerk like Troy Bolton to rule their lives as if he was something important. He was just a guy that had money and believed he was superior. That was only it, so what was the big deal of the Boltons that everyone seemed so scared and fragile around them? Why couldn't anyone just tell Troy some truths and show him that in real world, there's no prince and no common people, that everybody is the same?

She went to the comfortable and warm bed with the stomach full of food and her mind rushing with several questions she still needed to find answers for. Being as tired as she was after her big moving, sleeping was never a problem, and as the alarm rang and the sun invaded her room, she only wished she had went to bed earlier instead of listening to her grandmother's talk.

Already in her brand new uniform that consisted in a navy blazer and plaid skirt, white shirt and a tie that matched the rest of her clothes, she wanted nothing more than to get to her new school and start her senior year. She hated the fact that she was already a week late and everybody probably knew each other so well she'd have problem to find friends, but she would manage it with a smile on her face, maybe even the richest kids in town could think she was nice enough and give her a chance.

Gabriella observed herself in the small mirror of her new room and smiled proudly at her reflex. She had managed to clean very well and she actually looked… cute. Her long hair was up in a high ponytail, her clothes ironed thanks to Alice and her shoes clean enough not to be mocked about. Swinging her back pack over her shoulder, she walked silently out of the house afraid she'd wake her grandmother up, and made her way across the terrain, knowing it would take time to get to the main gates.

"Hey, Ella!" a distant voice called for her and she turned around, a smile forming on her face involuntary at the sight of Tristan running towards her, waving his hand frantically, "Wow, you look well in your uniform"

Gabriella laughed, flushing lightly as he grinned at her in her new attire, "The uniform is really cute… I like it"

"I like it too," Tristan admitted and blushed immediately as she giggled louder, starting to walk to the gates again, "So, did you get in trouble yesterday because of me?"

"No," he smiled and shook his head, "It's fine, seriously. The prince has just his mood swings. He usually never comes to the employees dormitories; I don't know what got into him"

She sighed, moving a strand of hair behind her ears and letting her eyes scan around the beautiful outside of the house again, "You shouldn't let him treat you bad, you know? You have rights as a person and one of them is to be treated gently"

Tristan clicked his tongue and shrugged his shoulders, "It's fine, I'm used already. I work here my entire life" he touched his hand to her arm and easily retrieved her back pack from her shoulder and put it over his own, always smiling at her, "You know, my granddad worked as a gardener here, my dad as a driver and when he passed away, I assumed the work. Maybe you could even get Alice's job when she retires" he suggested playfully.

"No, thank you" she smiled and shook her head immediately, "I came here to be different than my whole family. That's why I studied so hard to get to B.I. I'm gonna be an architect"

"Sounds like a good plan to be" Tristan winked, checking his watch before he bit his bottom lip, "Listen Ella, I have to go, alright? The prince will be out any minute and I can't give him more reasons to be mad at me"

She nodded reluctantly, enjoying their conversation, "The school is not too far away, I'd give you a ride if he didn't mind, but well…" Tristan shrugged again, "I'll ask anyway. In any case, you can use my bike if you want. Ask the guards were I hide it and they'll tell you"

Gabriella nodded again, smiling when he returned her back pack to her and waved again, running as fast as he could to a black Rolls-Royce Phantom parked near the mansions' front door. She sighed as she lost herself in time, observing how he cleaned a spot in the car with the sleeve of his black and white uniform, fixing his cap on his head and turning the vehicle around swiftly at the first sight of the main door opening.

From it came Troy Bolton and again, even though the day was sunny and warm, she felt the coldness that erupted from his body to assault her own and she embraced herself, trying to maintain the heat that escaped from her where it belong. He looked taller in the daylight and his beautiful face was shining with the sunlight. His chestnut hair was falling floppy in his eyes, covering the blue pools from the world. Gabriella watched as he simply shook his head when Tristan asked something and, throwing his black backpack inside the car, he suddenly flickered his eyes at her.

As the seconds passed slowly, she obligated herself not to flinch this time, not move her gaze from his, knowing that if she showed she was afraid of him, he'd find one more person to act superior around. The prince's jaw clenched and he looked not only shocked, but furious at her attempt to look him in the eyes. Breathing through his nose, he slightly shook his head and disappeared inside the black car.

The vehicle passed rapidly by her and she could swear she saw Tristan shrugging his shoulders exactly the way he had done when he told her he was used to the way the prince acted. Gabriella released the breath she didn't know she was holding and her lungs ached as she inhaled and exhaled the new air.

"Conceited jerk" she muttered to herself, shaking her head and walking towards the main gate again. _Conceited jerk with a uniform very similar to yours_, her mind teased her and she found herself praying silently for it to be just a coincidence and not the prince attending the same school she was going to. Because she already felt too annoyed by his presence from far, she wouldn't have the strength to try and be polite for the sake of her grandmother's job if he was near her for eight hours a day. That would be too much.

* * *

"I'm Gabriella Montez, I just moved from New Jersey and I want to be an architect when I graduate high school" she practiced her entry lines over and over again, getting more confident as the minutes passed and she approached the building the guards had described as her new school. As she rode the bike, tiny droplets of sweat rolled down her flat stomach and the sides of her head; her legs protested at every new inch she moved and her face started to get so wet, she'd just knew her make up wouldn't last longer. But why did she put make up anyway? She never liked it, who was she trying to impress? Her new teachers, the friends she wanted to make? Using make up when she rode a bike to go to school under the hot sun of the desert just sounded very, very stupid.

Only thinking of the possibility of the prince going to the same school and never offering a ride, just made her angrier at him. How could someone be that selfish? Troy Bolton knew it would be her first day at school and she knew nothing. He could have imagined she'd get lost, couldn't he? Something that really happened a couple of times before she saw an old lady walking down the street that knew where the B.I building was.

When it was impossible to take it anymore, Gabriella stopped, her legs touching the ground and keeping her balance steady on top of the bike. She breathed heavily in and out of her lungs, wiping with the back of her hands the sweat from her face, confirming that in fact, her make up was completely ruined. Gabriella sighed as she let her eyes study the big B.I building in front of her, her heart fluttering inside her chest as she realized she was already there, she'd be studying in the place that could change her life forever.

A huge grin formed on her lips as she literally jumped off the bike, her legs still trembling furiously due to her forced exercise, and took tiny steps to the entry of the building, Tristan's bike securely parked behind one of the guard's cabin. She fixed her backpack on her shoulders and climbed the stairs, her speech being repeated automatically as she took of a folded paper from her blazer's pocket and checked her schedule for her first day.

"Mathematics" she smiled, glad her first class was one of her favorites. Gabriella pushed open the school's heavy front doors and her jaw dropped open furiously. Her eyes were once again sinking in the image of the most beautifully decorated building in the world.

To say the school was glorious was not enough. She was once again surprised how nothing in Albuquerque was like she imagined. The interior of B.I was glamorous, the walls beige, trophies everywhere, pictures of students and staff on the walls. The dark wooden floor was so shiny that she saw her reflex again, and for a minute she wondered if her shoes were really dirty or if it was only dirty compared to the floor. As she walked, no noise being made as she just knew the acoustic of the school was impeccable, her eyes noticed a huge picture of three man in the farthest corridor of the room. Curiosity was stronger than her, and although she was late to class, she found herself narrowing her eyes from distance and observing the picture.

There they were, the three men that looked very much alike, three pair of big blue eyes that scanned her soul. Under a sign that read, _Bolton Institute,_ Gabriella watched how their suits matched, their skins were flawless and the two younger Boltons in the picture had the same color of hair. Jack Bolton had a more mature look, but Troy Bolton looked exactly like him, just a boyish version. Her heart accelerated and she shuddered, not because the prince looked ridiculously handsome in the picture and his blue orbs assaulted her figure as if the painting was alive, but because that was enough confirmation to know that she'd be attending the same school as the jerk himself.

Gabriella looked up and as she raised her hands in exasperation, all she could ask for was patience, for not ruining her grandma's job and for being able to end the school day without slapping him across the face to send that disgusted expression far away. Turning around, she sighed tiredly and made her way to her classroom.

At least Math always cheered her up.

* * *

_Damn, damn, damn,_ she repeated to herself after the teacher forced her to introduce herself in the middle of the biggest room she had ever been, on top of a small stage and she had forgot her speech. The teacher, feeling embarrassed enough for her, had agreed to send her to her place after himself informing the group of students that she was Gabriella Montez, the new student from Malcolm's High School, New Jersey.

The way along the double desks were not bad, she didn't trip or anything, she even got a smile from a dark skinned girl with dark hair that was sensible enough to know what she was going through to stand in front of several rich kids and try to introduce herself when she was still sweaty and her make up was a mess. And she was the new girl. What was really hard was the fact that she was put to sit right beside the prince, sharing the same table with him. Why was her destiny so cruel with her? Why did she have to go through this now? Wasn't enough being a new kid, getting to school a week later and having everyone staring at her as if she was a freak? Now she had to sit beside the owner of the school, and accept the way he looked at her and covered, not even subtly, his nose as she sat beside him.

"I'm sorry Mr. Bolton," the teacher began to apologize, "I know you like seating alone, but it's the only free seat" he smiled sympathetically as Troy shot him a look, "I'll make sure she won't bother you this class"

The prince in all his rudeness pushed his chair as far as possible from her, holding the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, literally covering his nostrils. Gabriella rolled her eyes and grabbed her notebook inside of the backpack, being once more observed as every other student in the classroom had laptops on top of their tables instead of her blue covered and too normal notebook.

Turning his back to the students, the teacher continued writing on the white board like he was doing before Gabriella knocked on the door, and she fidgeted with her pen as she waited for what to do next. A tap on the wooden table caught her attention and she balled her hands in fists as Troy Bolton still covered his face with one hand and tapped the table with his fingertips, the noise of it driving her insane.

"Could you stop?" she asked in a whisper and he raised his eyebrows, looking at her as if she was from another planet. "And take your hand off your face, it's rude"

He looked down and shook his head slightly, his hand moving tempting slowly from his face and pressing on the keyboard of his potent laptop. Troy looked at her with the corner of his eyes, as if she was not worth to have his full attention and his thin lips parted, moving lazily as he spoke what she already expected to be harsh words, "Can't you seat someplace else?" he commented disgusted, just before he covered his nose again and frowned. "You smell"

Gabriella's mouth opened and closed several times before her brain worked again and she let his words sink in. She turned bright red and her nails dug deeper into the palm of her hands, "That's because you didn't give me a ride!" she protested as he backed off, a disdainful expression on his face, "You came to the same school as me and you never even offered!"

"Why should I?" he asked calmly, his eyes flickering to the white board again. Without looking at the keyboard, the prince began typing the lesson with his right hand, the left one he waved her off, as if she was an inset disturbing him.

"Because that's the polite thing to do" she tried being reasonable, just in case he had any good manners hidden on the inside, but as he rolled his eyes and didn't seem affected at all, she scoffed. "Are you even real?"

"Shut up" Troy snapped irritated, her sickly sweet voice echoing over and over again in his ears. He hated not being able to think, he hated too much noise and he hated whining girls that thought they were smart. And Alice's granddaughter was everything he detested. "You're bothering me"

"You were the one bothering me when you began staring and covering your nose because you think I stink" Gabriella exploded, causing the teacher and the students to look at her, "God, you are the rudest person I have ever met"

"But you smell" he offered calmly and she groaned angrily.

"Miss Montez!" this time the teacher yelled and Gabriella's head quickly snapped at the sound of his furious voice. She haven't noticed she was standing up before and immediately sat down, swallowing when Mr. Broing, the math teacher walked towards her, his finger pointing fervently at her, "We don't accept interruptions in this school, miss Montez. Every student here is very committed to getting in a good university"

"But, Mr. Broing!"

"Perhaps—" the teacher interrupted her, "You should learn how things work here in B.I in detention"

"But it's his fault" she pointed to Troy, the dark skinned girl that smiled at her in the beginning of the class shaking her head ever so subtly, her eyes as big as a full moon, "He insulted me!"

"I said it already, Miss Montez" the teacher repeated, not even trying not to show his preference for the prince, "30 minutes of studying the book of rules will be enough"

Gabriella's mouth dropped open and her jaw clenched as she heard Troy chuckling amusedly. As the teacher turned around and got back to his lesson, he tapped his fingertips on the table again, his eyes fixed on the laptop, his voice low and husky as he spoke, "Don't you wish you were the one paying his salary too, now?"

* * *

Arriving from school, bike, smell, sweat and all, Gabriella made her way to the now familiar employees' dormitory and parking Tristan's bike under the stair, climbed up the steps and closed the gap between herself and the beige colored wall that now was home not only for her grandmother but for her as well. As she pushed the door open, she could quickly recognize Tristan's thin back and a body laying on the couch. Gabriella stood very still, very quietly, knowing that hearing behind doors was not polite, but afraid the conversation was too personal to participate. She held her breath and perked her ears, wanting nothing more than to know what was going on with her grandmother, because she was certain that it was not only a cold.

"I know you don't feel well, Alice" Tristan was saying patiently as he shifted onto the balls of his feet, "But the prince doesn't care, he said he's not paying you to lie down all day…" he ran one hand through his dirty blond hair, shaking his head, "I am afraid if you don't go there, he'll fire you"

"But Mr. Abraham said I could rest today," she tried helplessly, her voice trembling slightly, "He went to the kitchen when I was feeling faint, he was the one that sent me here"

Tristan sighed, bending down in front of the couch and stroking her hair, "We all know," he began, "that when the king isn't home, the prince rules…"

Gabriella had enough; she stormed inside the house like a hurricane, her eyes darkening with anger, her cheeks and neck red as tomatoes. The prince wouldn't put her grandmother's health in a worse situation just because he wanted. Her tiny hand wrapped around Tristan's arm, and pulling him with her as she ignored her grandmother, they met the sunlight again.

"You're gonna take me to that bastard right now" she said under her breath as she took off her backpack and unbuttoned her school blazer, letting all rest in one of the stairs' steps. "Someone needs to show him he can't abuse ill people"

"Ella, don't do that, please" Tristan pleaded, but even if he was taller and stronger than her, he didn't try to stop her, just letting her pull him furiously towards the Boltons mansion. "Stay out of his way"

She shook her head fervently and as she was about to ring the doorbell to the main house, the door opened swiftly, revealing the prince Troy Bolton himself. He looked down at her and immediately crossed his arms, his mouth a single line as he studied her. "Tristan," Troy said, his eyes still burring a hole in the middle of Gabriella's forehead. "Leave us alone"

The dirty blond haired boy swallowed, partly wanting to stay and protect her from the prince, partly afraid and wanting nothing more than escape as fast as he could from there. Gabriella's hand finally unwrapped from his arm, and she nodded her head just once, showing him she'd be good on her own. Differently from everybody that grew up around the Boltons, she was not afraid of them. For her, they were just conceited jerks that liked to treat people like scum, not the Gods everybody believed they were.

"Go Tristan, it's fine" she whispered, her gaze never moving from the cold blue orbs that belonged to Troy Bolton. She would not feel intimidated by him, not today, not ever.

The young driver reluctantly ran away, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes at his behavior. That was exactly the reason Troy didn't respect him, he acted like a scared little boy. People like the Bolton standing in front of her, needed to be remembered everyday that they were nothing special, just like everybody else. And she was planning to do that right now.

"My grandmother is sick" Gabriella started, her voice trying to sound controlled and relaxed, "She cannot work today"

"I don't mind" Troy's light red tongue brushed lightly against his bottom lip as he shifted slightly closer to her and continued, "I am not paying her to rest, I'm paying her to cook"

Gabriella shook her head fervently, unable to believe what her ears and brain were processing. How could someone be so cold hearted? How the hell he could be so selfish when someone's life was in discussion?

"Why you're so mean? She's ill, she needs to rest!"

"Again," he said impatiently, as if she was the most stupid person in the world, "and why does I should feel affected by it? I get from school at 4PM everyday and I expect nothing more than food to be ready"

"It's just a few days off, I bet you have tons of other maids to do her work" she protested, her hands shaking with anger and frustration. Gabriella sighed as she saw that his expression didn't change, not even a bit, and ran one hand across her face, "Prince…" she tried again, using the same nickname people referred to him at school and home, "She can't work"

"I won't pay for her to be lazy" he repeated again, his arms uncrossing against his body as he raised one hand and pointed to her, "If you want her to have a couple of days off so much, then you do her work"

"I won't mind, as long as you give her the days she needs to rest" Gabriella bargained, air fluttering inside her stomach at the possibility of being able to let her grandmother heal from her cold, disease, whatever it was that she had.

"Do you cook?" he asked curtly, his eyebrows raised suspiciously and he fought the urge to smirk as she looked as afraid as everybody else when dealing with him. She obviously couldn't cook.

"No" she admitted, "but I can learn"

_Damn_, he thought to himself, does this girl never give up? How could someone be so pushy and irritating? Troy didn't know why and he only saw the girl a couple of times before, but he already hated her so much that it was hard to believe. Everything in her bothered him, the fact that she was always around Tristan, the way her skin looked so soft, her long and shiny black hair, the constant smile on her face, how she blushed when people were staring at her. Gabriella looked like such a fool and she was so easy to irritate, that he felt sick in his stomach. Weak people disgusted him.

Troy turned around, still shaking his head and as he stepped inside the enormous hall of the mansion he knew she was following right behind. Her loud footsteps echoed painfully inside his ears and he hated himself for not being able to shut this girl up like he did with everyone. He just wanted her to be quiet, to stop whining and get the hell out of there. And he'd do anything to accomplish his mission, because like his father always told him, a Bolton never gives up. Troy wouldn't be the first Bolton to do that and let a girl set the rules, a maid's granddaughter… Just a conceited Jersey girl that thought she knew it all.

"Emma!" he yelled and his cute husky voice sent chills to her already shaky with anger body, "Emma, come here!"

Gabriella didn't know how long she was spinning around, letting her eyes absorb the nice paintings, the expensive furniture and the beautiful plants, but as a blond girl that seemed to be in her mid twenties walked into the hall dressed in black and white in a maid's uniform, she was already dizzy. She shook her head rapidly as a _wow_ escaped her mouth and tried to focus her eyes on the girl that nodded up and down, the corner of her eyes making holes into Gabriella's skin, an angry frown forming on her once peaceful expression.

Troy waved her off and she disappearing forcefully from the hall. He didn't turn around, but his voice was clear and direct when he spoke, "Emma will cook in your grandmother's place and you'll be the maid in her place from now on. Be here everyday after school, consider this your part time job" he looked over his shoulder and not even a hint of smile formed on his model like face, "And just to inform you, outside the school I am your master, so watch your tone of voice"


End file.
